Disturbia
by Shinzoku
Summary: After disappearing on a family emergency, Rhea comes to the Island in hopes that things are finally settled and she will not have to leave again.
1. Prologue

There was a nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach as he walked the familiar path through the village and to the hill. Though the clouds were light, fluffy, and full, and the sky was a vibrant shade of orange, he was afraid of what he might see—afraid of the rumors being true. He clung to his light purple and green scarf, noting the frayed ends and forming holes every couple of inches. His mentor was right, eventually he would have to throw this away or end up with strangely colored and patterned patches all over his pretty scarf. Huffing, the boy let go of it and shoved his hands into the pockets on his turtleneck-like jacket, trying to think of ways to distract himself from the inevitable. Piñata Island was very beautiful in the late evening when all the trees and buildings reflected the fading orange glow and he appreciated the way that his shirt almost completely blended in with the yellow and orange buildings. But this shirt also had holes and tears in the elbows and such, and it jolted him right back down to earth with a sickening feeling.

He stood at the crest of the hill, looking down into the garden. Piñata chirped and cooed happily and trotted around so he assumed that there was still hope yet for his friend to still remain on the island. But he did not allow himself to feel hopeful as he padded lightly down the hill, hopping a few steps when he got a pile of dirt in his flip flop. After almost tripping a few times and finally making it to the bottom, he turned and looked up the hill, seeing the final rays of the sun disappear and leave the village in a warm dusk. Everything seemed so happy that he just—he could not bear to think that his Rhea would ever be gone. But she was.

No piñata looked up when he entered the garden. In the center, in an island in the center of a pond, there was a chest that had a lock on it. When he inspected it, he saw a paper taped to the front with a list of items like, 'Watering Can, shovl, Jouranl, Pacetes' and it continued down the sheet and even on the back. Mark could tell that it was written hastily and let it settle back against the wood with a flutter. Piñata were now settling down for their slumber and he could hear the light snores, but he still did not move, his fists clenched at his sides.

"She will be back, you know."

He jumped and spun around. Leafos was carefully picking her way through the water, stepping up onto the island beside Mark. She looked a little sad at first, but tried to pick up a smile.

"I have no idea where she is or why she left—she only told my father—but she specifically said she would be back soon." She gave a stern nod and turned to go back through the water. "Seedos and I have offered to help take care of the garden until she gets back. My father is so sure on Rhea being the best gardener he's seen in a while that he refuses to give this thing to anyone else."

Mark sighed and looked away, his eyebrows furrowing. "Can I—" He swallowed. "Can I take care of her piñata? I know them well enough…"

Leafos raised an eyebrow and stopped just outside the little pond. "Aren't you training to be a tinker?" she asked. "You don't have time for gardening."

He gripped the end of his scarf again, holding onto it a little too tightly. She was right; Bart would not be happy if he did not properly perform all the tasks at hand—otherwise known as 'do these errands and tinker this berry and you're free'—but this was the garden of his best friend. And she was gone for who knows how long. He had spent nearly every day in this garden and every day with Rhea, and he knew these piñata like the back of his hand. His eyebrows furrowed again.

"I have free time," he said. "But, do you know why she locked up all of her stuff? Does she not think someone's going to be here in her garden?"

Leafos chuckled quietly, resting her hands on her hips. A slight breeze chilled the garden. "Those are just her most valuable items," she said, pointing to the chest in the middle of the pond. "There's a shed by her cottage that has heaps of shovels, watering cans, and seed packets. She gave me the key to watch over it for her."

She pulled it out of her pocket and it dangled off a brightly colored chain of icy blue and teal green. Mark resisted the urge to snatch it up and shove it into his own pocket. The worrying look on his red mask caused Leafos to raise an eyebrow and lower her arm. It was dead silent now except for the piñatas snores and grunts as they slept.

"You really want to help, don't you?" she asked solemnly. He nodded vigorously, his mask almost falling off. "Then it's your job to come here every day, okay?" Leafos was giving him the kind of stern look a mother would give to a young child.

"I will, but I'm not a gardener." Mark's voice was straining and weak. He gestured with his hands to try and get his point across. "I'm just a really lame tinker. I can try."

Leafos laughed. "You won't be that bad," she said with a genuine smile. "You take care of your Sherbat and Bart's piñata, don't you? You won't have to do much else besides that."

And so he ran home and finished up the rest of his chores, quietly mumbling to himself enough to make Bart wonder if he was hit in the head again by an angry gardener who did not receive what they wanted with his services.

He was washing a few plates as he thought, and he was quite unsure how to tell him that he was going to take care of Rhea's garden, especially considering he could hardly take care of a handful of piñata. What if Bart did not let him go? And so he remained quiet and early the next morning he got up, showered, dressed, and ran out to the garden, almost killing himself when his flip flop caught in a pothole.

Confused piñata greeted him when he entered the garden. As the grass was nice and cool and soft, he pulled off his flip flops and set them by a tree, turning to see more piñata rise. His own Sherbat came with him and nibbled on a sandwich, running off to play with Rhea's big family of Sherbats.

It happened like that every day.

If a piñata got sick he cared for them and used the money out of his own allowance to pay for their doctor's bills and if they were hungry he found a way to get them food, whether it be growing turnips to attract Mousemallows for the Syrupents or Whirlms for the Sparrowmints. Sometimes he would go later in the day after his tinkering practice and relax, taking chunks of sandwich that his pet handed to him and chewing them slowly.

Every day he grew more and more fatigued until eventually Bart noticed. Mark tried to explain, and though he did it well, all his mentor could do was raise an eyebrow and shake his head, telling him that he was trying to do too much at once.

"Rhea will be back soon enough, boy."

"Yes, I know, but I don't know when she will be, and she loves all of her piñata. If one of them got sick and was beaten by Dastardos…"

Mark would simply frown and look away from Bart. That was how dinner usually went every night that Bart was off and Mark hated it. He would try to change the subject, mention something that he was proud of himself for, announce a new villager's achievements, simply talk about his day, and yet he would be met with a worried frown—and not a creepy, jack-o-lantern frown, either, for Bart usually took his mask off when it was only him and Mark in the room.

He would sometimes sit in her garden with his head in his hands and think about the first time he had met her. Or when she had got her first 'good' piñata, a Salamango. Or when Eddie tried seducing her and she beat him over the head with her shovel. He had been there for all of it, but now he could not be there for her during this time when she was gone. It made his heart ache despite knowing that she would come back. But_ when_?

One day his entire allowance was spent on getting Rhea's sick Geckie healed by Patch. Dastardos was right behind him and he used the agility he gained by running from upset costumers to sprint past villagers and turn sharp corners. He even slammed into some British gardener on his way to the office.

The next day the plants in her garden started to die and he helped Seedos water them all, for Rhea refused the help of a Sprinkling and they wanted it to stay that way.

And on one day, weeds were starting to take over the garden. It was tiring, but he and the other two collectively helped him get rid of them and throw them into the outer parts of the area, back into Dastardos' tree house.

All Mark knew was that Leafos would revoke his privilege of staying in the garden if he missed even one day, and sometimes he wished he could just sleep all day and regain his strength.

Pretty soon some of the piñata were getting used to him and a few Syrupent slithered up to him and nudged him in the arm.

Months and months passed and eventually he had to agree with everyone else—Rhea was not going to be coming back any time soon. He sent her messages on his Alert System, but she had left hers in the chest and for good reason; if she was leaving the island, the systems would not work. He found that the hard way when he dialed her number and heard a light, happy tune erupt from the chest in the center. Why had she left it on? He would try and figure out why, but the chest was locked and Jardiniero said she had taken the key with her.

It was frustrating! She never called him, never sent him a message or email or text. Every day he waited, more worried than any other sixteen year old around the village, and every day he would go to bed with a little less hope than he had before. Mark's Alert System was always with him at all times just in case, and at breakfast, he dropped it onto the little table.

"You're over exaggerating."

"No I'm not." Mark mocked Bart's accent and slumped into a chair at the table, resting his head in his hands.

"They said she would be back soon, boy, so calm down and try to learn more!."

"Jardiniero and Leafos and Seedos do not know _when_ she will be back, though."

Bart gave him a hard look and crossed his arms. And again Mark was hopeless. He reached down and spooned cereal into his mouth, recoiling at the sogginess that he was unused to. Always he ate his breakfast in record time, but lately he was always late to breakfast.

"She's the only one I trust enough to hang out with every day. I can't even talk to Eddie without feeling upset."

Mark got a sigh from Bart. "Maybe if you tried to be friends with them, eh?"

Huffing, Mark stood up and grabbed his scarf and wrapped it around his neck without saying a word. Already he had gone to Rhea's garden, but now it was time for a new round in which he ran around tinkering or cleaning things for villagers in hopes of getting enough money to keep in his pocket. Just in case Rhea's piñata were hurt, you know? They had already wiped him clean of all chocolate coins that he at the time.

And he had to do it on his free time and of his own accord because Bart simply would not let him take customers and all of the money. He liked Rhea, he really did, but the business was not going to lose money.

Walking through the village alone was a thing he had gotten used to. He waved to a few of the others, such as Gretchen and Sahari, but it was Eddie who was not going to leave him alone when he saw the sullen boy.

"Are you still upset about Rhea?" Eddie asked, his eyes wide and questioning. He persisted when Mark grunted angrily and forced himself to walk faster. "Hey, come on, buddy! Everyone likes Rhea! But you can't be sad forever, you know?"

His green was beginning to aggravate Mark, so he spun around and jabbed him in the chest. It was comical how tall Eddie was—nearly six feet and a few inches- while Mark was full grown and only a little bit over five-foot three. "Look," Mark began, ignoring Eddie's smirk, "I don't want to get caught up in a bunch of funny business. All I want is to help out Leafos and Seedos in taking care of Rhea's garden until she gets back!"

Holding his hands up innocently, Eddie spun around and headed back in the opposite direction, holding his hands out dramatically. "Forget I even talked to you," he said a little too lightheartedly. "I didn't mean to upset you. I was trying to comfort you…"

In a hopeless fit Mark sighed and slouched forward, running a hand through his hair. It was just…a moment. A moment where life was coming at him hard and too many things were happening at once. He would just have to grow up and push through them and try to remain happy, you know? Even if he was being mean and people were starting to get irritated by him he had to…

He felt a flutter of paper against his cheek and turned his head, bumping into his Sherbat and almost knocking it over. It grabbed a handful of his hair in its wings and clung to his head all the way down to a garden, offering to help in exchange for a few coins. And thus he started to work, helping the gardener build her fence.

At least, he thought, it was nice and warm outside and spring had finally come.

Mark slumped over, knocking his Sherbat down. It squeaked and flew back up, too happy and loyal to ever be mad at him. Even in his old age he still had a big smile on his face.

The gardener stared at him.

"Sorry, sorry…" He hammered a nail into a fence and stood up, finished for the time being. He was paid a few coins and he stuffed them into a pouch, looking at how completely empty it was. "We'll get this filled soon again, won't we, buddy?" The Sherbat squeaked. "Let's go visit Seedos and see how the plants are holding up…"

And so he walked back up the path to the village, staring at the ground and trying to work up the courage to talk to someone.


	2. A Message

Fingers silently tapped away at the smooth surface of the counter. His other hand rested against his cheek and his eyes stared blankly at the door, his mind wandering off into space. The silence of the shop buzzed through his mind like a happy little Buzzlegum, but it was starting to sting and throb against his temples. For hours the shop had been empty and only once had Mark been called out on a tinkering job for a nervous new gardener working with Sour Sherbats. His gaze moved around in search of something new to play with, but all that were on the counter were piles of knickknacks such as old books, plastic flowers, tinkered animal bones from outside the island…a few of the toys from his childhood…

He was so bored by now that he could tinker paper! He had already visited Rhea's garden once that day and was forbidden from leaving the shop, which he thought was stupid; he was eighteen now and could be trusted! But nevertheless, is finger tapped against his scratchy jaw line and he scooted his stool back, reaching under the counter for one of the sales notebooks. It opened up easily and he ripped out a few empty pages, oblivious to the fact that just a month ago he had turned eighteen and was acting like a young child. His fingers gently ripped the papers and folded them until they were cute little origami frogs, and then he pulled out his father's markers and began to color and add patterns. Things were soon set aside and he wiggled his fingers, watching the little animals jump to life and hop around.

For a while he was mildly amused, but that lasted for but a few minutes. Eventually the frogs hopped off the counter and he slammed his hand into it, finding nothing else to do. His impatience and grumpiness sure had grown over the past two years, he realized, as he stood up and paced around the shop. The emptiness in his heart hurt—forever he had felt this stupid loneliness. Selfish it was, but it was just there and he did not know how to get rid of it. And sitting around did not help.

He clasped his hands behind his back and his boots made deep thumps against the wooden floor. The quiet snores of Bart's piñata reached his ears, but he could slowly feel his heart sinking. It was hard to listen to piñata anymore without getting upset over his own, who had died one day of old age months ago, and Mark was still numb with the sight of paper and candy littering his floor from where it slowly fell apart.

_That_ had been fun for Bart that morning.

Mark let his head loll to the side and turned on his heel, marching back up to the door. It was open and a little bell rang quietly in a breeze. He took a step out.

The wind was cool and slow, but dark clouds were starting to climb over the crest of Piñata Central and covered the entire island. Eventually the P-Factor would be ending and gardeners and villagers who preferred not to go out in the rain would gather in the inn or their own cottages. Perhaps on that slow day he would even get a customer.

As per request of Bart he did not leave, but he was so bored! Eventually people started to walk up a path and spread into different shops and such, and because Bart was not there, Mark walked back in, sat at the stool, and rested his head in his hands, waiting for someone to come in. His legs swung back and forth. His lips curled into a frown.

His scream was simultaneous with the door slamming open and bouncing off the wall. At first his thought was 'holy /shit/ I have to fix that hole!', but his second was of Eddie who flounced in so fast he was breathless.

"Do you not have your Alert System on you?" he snapped.

"No."

Eddie pressed his hands against the counter and placed his whole weight atop them. He leaned so close to Mark that he could smell his fruity breath; with a grunt he pulled back and almost fell off his stool, grabbing the piece of wood that separated two compartments under the counter. They stared at each other for a good, long time, and then Eddie broke into a fabulous grin that made the corner of his eyes crinkle up.

He wiggled his fingers. "Mark, you /have/ to check your messages!"

"My System is back at my house!" Mark exclaimed, covering his face with a hand so he would not have to stare at the pout that Eddie gave him. "What's so damn important, anyway?"

"You'll see! You'll like it, I swear!" The green-clad gardener grabbed Mark by the wrists and dragged him out of the shop.

Mark dug the heels of his boots into the well-trodden path outside the door and fell onto his bottom, dragging Eddie along with him. "I am not allowed to leave," he snarled in Eddie's ear. "You'll just have to wait until the P-Factor is over!"

Huffing, Eddie pulled himself to his feet and placed his hands on his hips. "Mark, this is /very/ important! Even my family is excited about it! You /have/ to see!"

"Then why the hell don't you show me on your own System?" Already Eddie was testing his patience. He stood up and brushed dirt off of the back of his pants, crossing his arms with a glance at the other. "Well?"

Clicking emitted from Eddie's Alert System. He looked at Mark with eyebrows upturned. "Sorry," he said. "I mass deleting as I was running up here and the message is gone. I could have sworn I unchecked the message…"

"So it's a message. What did it say?"

Eddie gave him a reptile-like grin that caused Mark to take a step back into the shop. "I can't tell you that. Looks like we have to go on an adventure to your house!"

"No we're not," Mark said almost too quickly. "We are not going into my house, nope, you will get lost. Besides, I can't leave! I will have my allowance revoked—"

"Mark, are you an adult or still stick as a sixteen year old?" Eddie covered half of his face with his hand and popped out a hip, sighing. "You sound so _childish_. But alas, you're right. Can't have you get yelled at!"

His lips set into a thin line as he thought and tapped his foot against the ground. Giving up, Mark turned around and once again resumed his seat on the stool. That seemed to be his favorite place lately, he noted with a sigh.

"You seem so down lately," Eddie muttered, pacing about the shop with one hand rested against his hip and the other stroking his chin. He seemed so dead set on something lately, but Mark was just…he was like a plant who did not get enough water. "When Bart gets back, why don't you come with me to my garden? Or maybe we can meet up with each other sometime. Well, after we get your Alert System, of course!"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Whatever."

Circles were traced on the counter in Mark's boredom.

"I'll be back in a few minutes!" Eddie gave a large wave, a brilliant smile, and flounced out the door, into the pouring rain.

He ran down a path that he did not know quite well, strange for him seeing as he knew the village like the back of his hand. It was well trodden, of course, as people lived at the end, but it wound around the village and in the back was a small cottage that attracted little attention. Mark told him not to go there, but he had a VERY important message for him!

Only two people lived there—Bart, and Mark, obviously—and both were off doing something else, so he found no reason to knock. Like most of the cottages and houses, the door was left unlocked, and he pushed it open, staring at the cool little patterns on the frame. He pulled off his muddy boots, too, seeing as the house was relatively clean.

At first it seemed relatively normal, like any other cottage on Piñata Island (not saying much, he assumed) and he picked his way past a few couches, piles of books, and into a hallway that went left and right with a window straight in front of him.

There seemed to be a lot of paper everywhere. Like the kind of paper that made up the piñatas' fur. He took no heed as both who lived there owned piñata of their own—perhaps they let them into their house. Eddie pondered for about two seconds which direction he should go, and chose the way that did not have a pile of Candary yellow paper in a pile by the door.

He paused before he opened it to cross his arms and tap his fingers against his upper lips in uncertainty. This was someone else's house, you do not just intrude at random, whenever you see fit! And then he shrugged, knowing the full importance of the message that Mark had to read, and threw open the door.

And he was surprised at how utterly clean it was.

A bed rested against the opposite wall, perpendicular to a large window. A rug was in the center. In one corner was a perch for a flying piñata and in the other was a dresser that also doubled as a desk. A bookshelf was against a wall. Eddie stared in confusion, sure that there would have been _some_ messiness, but then he remembered that Mark was a very lonely kid; cleaning his room to be spotless was probably time consuming and comforting.

So how hard could it be to find one little yellow, shield-shaped device?

Impossible.

"Well, it has to be here somewhere!"

But Eddie had already searched through his dresser drawers, under Mark's pillow, on the bookshelf, and under the bed. He even gently lifted up the rug in the center of the wooden floor to find nothing.

Eddie let out a hum and placed his hands on his hips, one eyebrow raised and the other drawn down. "This place is empty! Where could a young man keep his Alert System?"

A loud tune filled the air. Eddie hunted it out like a police dog—mad at himself for not thinking of calling it!—and stormed into their kitchen, finding the device sitting on the dining table. Gently he lifted it and scrolled through Mark's messages, his heart sinking at the desperation he could _feel_ from the messages on the screen.

"Soon," he muttered as he took a deep breath and ran through their back door, preferring not to parade through their house again. He sprinted around front on their cobblestone path and grabbed his boots, which boots squelched through mud as he sprinted back down the village's path. In a few minutes the P-Factor would be over, and he wanted to be the one who saw Mark's reaction first.

Mark screamed again when Eddie threw the door open. Instead of yelling, he fell completely backwards and out of his chair, slamming his head against the wooden floor. Curling over, Mark let out a groan, snapping at Eddie to leave him the hell alone when he was lightly nudged.

"What! What do you want NOW?!" Mark shouted, cringing at the growing bump he felt under his fingers.

"Hey, jerk, I have your System. And it has a special message for you!"

Instantly he was up, grabbing Eddie by the front of his shirt. "Why the _hell_ did you go into my house!"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "If you would just look at the_ screen, _you dolt! You can thank me later."

In anger Mark snatched his System from Eddie and slumped against the counter, flicking it on to the messages. Eddie watched as his expression slowly went from one of complete and utter rage to one of sorrow and longing, his snarl tightening into a deep frown.

"Is she really…?" His voice was hardly more than a squeak. Eddie bounced around him in excitement and grabbed his hands.

"Yes! She's coming back really soon, Mark! Isn't this exciting?! Two years!"

Mark wrenched his hands away from Eddie's surprisingly tight grip and reached up with one to tap his fingers against his upper lip. With exuberance, Eddie pulled Mark into a hug. He hesitated and then returned the gesture; for once his bright smile was finally back!

Eddie let out a brief sigh to remember the last time Mark smiled like that.

The tinker pulled away and looked down at his System again, staring at the messages that flickered brightly to life as he tapped them with his thumb. It started with "I'm coming back to the island soon!" and ended with "Mark? Are you there? Why aren't you answering? ):" Mark let out a shaky breath and sent a message to her, unable to communicate how excited he was because…well…he had not gotten very excited in the past years except a brief smile when he was with his new friends or when Bart praised him.

It made the rain seem a little bit lighter than when it had come down an hour ago. Mark hid back a choked noise and went to the door of the shop, looking around both ways. The P-Factor was over and villagers were starting to walk back home. Sahari must have won for she was parading at the front with her S'morpion held closely and tightly in her arms. Sparcticus looked a little exasperated.

"Sahari, you don't have to flaunt it…"

"Oh, come on! I haven't won in months! I can add these coins to my chest and save them up for something _cool_!"

Mark hung his head.

"Come on, Sparctic! Stop lagging behind, yeesh!"

And finally he heard a familiar accent. He lifted his head and saw Bart walking toward the shop, his Candary placed neatly on his shoulder. It was a big, smug one, and though it participated in the P-Factor, it was _definitely _better built for the piñata races. And when it was close it swooped in past Mark and landed on a perch in the corner of the shop, preening its paper feathers and shaking itself dry. Before Bart walked in, Mark turned around and walked back to lean against the counter.

Eddie was still in the shop, choosing to sit on the counter with his knees pulled up and hands caressing his face.

"You will never believe what we just heard, sir," Eddie said with a mischievous grin. Mark rolled back onto his heels, staring at his Alert System. It had been silent and virtually unused after his Sherbat died (as Systems were able to track the position and actions of a piñata), but now he just…could not put it down.

His _best friend, _who left _so suddenly, _was finally coming back! He did not hear the conversation playing between Eddie and Bart he was so sidetracked and distracted, but he pulled off his mask and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, getting a rather annoyed look from Bart.

"Are you crying?!"

Mark let out a choke. "N-no! I- I uh—got dirt in my eye! Your Candary is dirty!"

"I washed it this morning—you're crying, boy."

Eddie, who was politely looking away, let out a chuckle. "Well, sir…" he said, dragging it out for what seemed like forever, "Rhea is coming back, and everyone loves Rhea!" He bounced down from the counter and sprinted toward the door. "I'll be back later—again! I'm bringing Sahari and Sparcticus!"

"Go to my house not the shop!" Mark managed to exclaim, throwing himself toward the door. He was scolded one too many times for having too many people in the shop after hours. "Eddie did you hear me!"

"Yes!" He turned around and waved to him briefly.

He let out a sigh and turned back into the shop. He lifted the stool and pat Bart's Candary lightly on the head, getting a look that was a mixture of annoyance and pleasure…more of a despicable look, if you asked Mark.

"Put your mask back on, boy, someone's coming in."

Mark got his mask on just as the bell to the door rang. He was thankful Bart had not noticed the, uh, large hole in the wall from where Eddie slammed the door open and the doorknob hit it. He decided to simply sit at the stood with his head in his hands, and though he did not show it, he was secretly in elation. Two years of protecting and helping and watching over her garden—the only thing that did not spike his impatience to ungodly levels.

He jumped when Bart's Alert System went off.

"I need to go out to a garden across the village," Bart announced, pointing to Mark, "and you will continue to watch the shop until I get back."

Of course Bart did not seem excited. He just never tended to show it when he was busy, that was all. Mark was just hoping he would seem a bit more excited that she would be coming back.

And now Mark was back to tapping his fingers against the counter in a soundless rhythm and bouncing his leg in a fit of impatience, waiting for the message that would tell him when Rhea was finally coming home.

* * *

Shinzu: Well, here's another chapter. Have fun.


	3. Return

His rough fingers ran over the curves of his mask as he performed his daily check on whether it was cracked, chipped, or broken. Years ago, when his father had found him new clothes to wear, he had ditched the orange, pumpkin-like mask and learned himself how to create his own masks out of the Gem tree wood that Bart often got. Mark smiled at remembrance of Bart's enthusiasm when he learned that his son could actually tinker more than just the average berry; it left the young man with a warm feeling in his heart that mingled with longing for Rhea and he decided that he could easily wait a few more days for her return.

Usually he got up before the sun even rose. It was a habit of his—no, more of a problem, seeing as he woke up at five forty-five every morning since he was about twelve. Now, though, it was time to get ready for the day, and after a quick bath, he stormed around the kitchen searching for breakfast. He tried to stay quiet because his father was usually not awake for a few hours yet, and placed jars and boxes onto the island in the center of the little kitchen. As there were no bowls, Mark brought it upon himself to scrub a good stack of them and then sat at the table outside with a bowl of cereal, watching the sunrise. Perhaps, he thought, the reason he got up so early was to see things like this, and maybe some of the early morning piñata like Galagoogoo. Once had he seen one of those and it was amazing—cute little bugger! Few gardeners had been able to attract one.

Finally he grabbed his mask from his room and put it on his face. Unsure of what to do to start the day, Mark stood outside the house and stretched. His satchel was placed neatly at his side with lots of snacks in it, his mask was on, his jean t-shirt was buttoned up; everything was good, so he began a trek to the village, taking in the cool air of early morning. Villagers just beginning to rise sat outside of their homes and a few gardeners pounded on the door to Costolot's shop, screeching about needing pumpkin seeds, rose seeds, and mushroom seeds. It made Mark face palm because wow—it certainly was the season for sours!

"I'm just glad I like tinkering for these little brats," Mark grumbled. He turned down a path and up a hill, silently proud of himself for not tripping on a pothole that day.

A giggle reached his ears. "Good morning, Mark."

He waved to Leafos, throwing his satchel against a tree. "Mornin'," he said, stooping down to pat a Robean on the head. "Anything new happening?"

"Nothing except the usual." Leafos smiled at him, propping a shovel against the same tree his satchel was against. "I heard Rhea was coming back, so I'm sprucing up the garden a little bit. Everything has looked _so_ sad lately."

Mark nodded and clasped his hands together behind his back, pacing back and forth. Giggles told him that Eddie had just arrived at the garden, which was, in fact, on the way to his own garden. He stopped by early that morning, bringing with him a desert yellow Syrupent. Today he was wearing a bright red mask around his eyes and a fancy shirt with an obnoxious amount of patterns dotting the sleeves.

The tinker stood and gave the gardener a hard, questioning look of which the other simply grinned at. Eddie hand his hands behind his back and a smile that hid something.

"I'm just coming to visit! Is there anything wrong with that?"

Leafos bit her bottom lip in amusement as Mark stomped over to Eddie and jabbed him in the chest with his finger.

"You don't just come to visit. Usually you want something."

Eddie let out a 'heh' and took a step back, patting the snake wrapped around his shoulders. They were in a stare down that was only broken when Leafos took a step between them and placed her hands on their chests, pushing the two apart. After scolding Mark for a few moments she turned and announced that she was going to go and clean up one of the ponds, leaving the two alone on their own. An awkward silence followed, one of which Mark was unsure how to break.

And of course, Eddie broke it easily.

"Me, Sahari, and Sparcticus are going to have a small welcome back party for when Rhea gets back. Do you want to come?"

"Sure…?" Mark asked, wondering why Eddie had to ask. "When is it?"

For a split second Eddie looked a little thoughtful, like he knew something that Mark did not. His eyebrows furrowed, then, and he looked down at the short man, his hands placed on his hips and foot tapping impatiently. "Have you not gotten a message from Rhea?" he asked. "She told everyone that she is coming back tonight!"

Mark's jaw dropped. He froze in place, his hand lingering in the air, until he reached back, pulling out his Alert System with a sinking feeling in his chest. No, he had not gotten a message from Rhea. He had not gotten anything since the day weeks ago when Eddie burst into the shop and had him read them. As he put the System back in his pocket, he turned and looked at Eddie, who looked as nervous as he did.

"Why didn't I get a message if everyone did?" Mark asked, his voice quiet and straining. He was hurt that Rhea would not message him, but maybe they were not as close as he thought. Or maybe he was the only one who wanted to see Rhea _so _bad.

Eddie could see the gears turning in Mark's head and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe the signal was bad?" he suggested. "If Rhea is coming back today, that means she got on the boat a few days ago at least. There could have been a storm or overcast sky when she sent the messages. Don't get so down."

He felt numb. But Eddie was right—maybe something had come up. He tried to put on a weak smile, but it looked and felt forced, so he frowned again and stood up from a slouch. Rhea was coming back _today_! That meant that maybe—just maybe—she would be back that night and he could see her again after two long years of waiting.

Now he just…had to fill up the time. There were piñata races later that afternoon, so maybe he could distract himself by watching that, even if he was really not that fond of the races. All patience he had was suddenly flown out the window and he just—he could not wait! But he kept most of it under wraps.

"Hah, now you look excited! Come on, Tinker Bell, let's go to my garden real quick!"

"I need to stay here and—"

Leafos laughed. "Go on, Mark!" she said from across the garden. She pulled up her arm and wiped off her forehead. "Me and Seedos can take care of it for now."

He gave her a doubtful look, but when she scowled, he took a step back, not expecting to bump into Eddie. Before he knew it, his wrist was grabbed in a rather tight hold and he was dragged up the hill. Try as he might to get his hand free, it was a useless effort and he gave up, allowing himself to be dragged to Eddie's heart's content. They passed a few small cottages and walked down a cobblestone path, no doubt leading to the garden—only Eddie would work on presentation so much!

In the back was Eddie's Fourheads, slithering along silently, gliding through the cool, wet grass. It seemed that there were only reptile piñata in the garden, which was typical for Eddie LIZARD. Mark flopped onto a patch of grass and laid on his back with his arms crossed, staring at the sky.

"Don't be such a downer!" Eddie exclaimed, tapping his foot impatiently. Mark could see, though, that his eyes were lit up in excitement. "We're just going to come here for Rhea's little party because my parents have the house this weekend. But I've got a little table somewhere…"

Mark sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, fine, whatever. Just make sure Sparcticus doesn't /freeze/ the garden when he's here!"

The other burst into cynical laughter, waving his hand in dismissal. "He won't do that," he exclaimed. "But you might with your negative behavior! Yeesh, lighten up!"

He frowned, feeling his heart fall. He stood up and shoved his hands into the pockets on his shirt, giving Eddie a blank stare. The tension rose again.

"Sorry I can't be happy go lucky all the time." Mark sighed and turned to walk out of the garden. "I'll be back later. Bye."

And so he sat in the center of the village, on the side of a fountain featuring a Chewnicorn and a few Bispotti. He did not want to go home, or sit in Bart's shop again, or in Rhea's garden. Clouds were now making the sky overcast and people were still waking up, but the few that were up were walking by and greeting him with happy faces and broad smiles. Even some of the younger gardeners ran up to him, the youngest being twelve, having been given a small area of her parents' garden to work on.

They wanted to talk to him? Why he was so interesting all of a sudden was beyond him—he always (well, sometimes) came and sat in the village and few people talked to him then, and they did not seem interested in trying to get him to tinker something.

Mark sighed as he watched them all scatter and run through different paths to get back to their own gardens. He dug the heel of his boot into the dirt under the bench and let out a long, breathy sigh of boredom and loneliness. Perhaps it would have been better if he was a full time gardener instead of a tinker. Gardeners got to raise piñata; his died. Gardeners got to grow fruit and flowers; he tinkered them, often with bad affects. And there was no one besides Bart that he could share his experience with.

He was just on his way back to Eddie's garden when Sahari and Sparcticus met up with him. When they got to the garden, Mark ran up to talk to Eddie, apologizing quietly (and rather ashamedly) for leaving so suddenly. The other two looked at him like he grew another head. Sahari crossed her arms.

"You see different today," she said with a flicker of a smile. "You must be excited your girlfriend's coming back, huh?" She nudged him in the ribs and he covered his face, stomping on her foot. Sparcticus nailed him on the back of the head and he dropped to his knees, finally rolling to the side and staring up at the tall, arctic man.

"The hell was that for!"

"You are a young, pathetic man," Sparcticus said bluntly. Mark scowled at him and crawled to his hands and knees, and then finally his feet. "We all know you like her. I mean, she has to be pretty oblivious to not realize it herself."

Eddie covered his mouth and looked away, muttering something about a 'friendzone' or some term he read about online. "In all seriousness, though," Eddie began, "he is excited! I'm sure if I drop some Romance Candy in their drinks tomorrow…" He clasped his hands together in a dreamy yet somewhat malicious way and a grin spread on his face.

"No." It was deadpanned so hard that Eddie backed up ever so slightly.

"I was just teasing! Yeesh, don't get your wings in a bunch, Tinker Bell!" Eddie chuckled at his own joke and bounced forward with an enthusiastic aura that caused Sahari and Sparcticus to smile. "We're going to have just a liiiitle tiny welcome back party for Rhea, okay? Just us four and her, all in my garden! She probably does not want to be overwhelmed, correct?"

He gave Mark an expectant look. With a sigh, he nodded. "Rhea takes a while to open up to new things, so I don't know how coming back to the island will be."

After a quick debriefing, Eddie gave Mark a few hundred chocolate coins to go off and buy food with. He was walking to a little, tucked away shop—preferable to Costolot's obnoxious prices—when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A bush was rustling, but it must have only been a wandering piñata. Perhaps, he thought as he twisted his fingers around the little strap of a coin pouch, he was being just a little paranoid and too anxious about Rhea's return. He shifted the coin pouch to his other hand and continued on his way, creating a stupid tune in his head to the beat of his footsteps against the ground.

Trees danced in the wind and shook their leafy limbs as if waving to him. He glanced at them for mere seconds before turning sharply and knocking on the door of a short and squat little shop with maroon accents. It had produce and items sold cheaply for those who were not gardeners—Costolot was only ever okay with it as the owner sold small quantities and she sold in bulk.

Finally when the door opened, a tall man with a bright orange poncho looked at him. The hood reached over and covered his face down to his nose, with little eyeholes so he could see.

"Mark, I did not expect to see you so late in the week," he said, his voice slow, quiet, and soothing, his word choice deliberate. He took a step to the side and gestured for Mark to come in. "Is there anything you require?"

Despite flowers and vines completely covering the interior of the dimly-lit shop, Mark could see a counter with baskets of fresh fruit from the owner's wife's garden.

"Crisanto, do you have strawberries, by any chance?"

He turned away with a flourish of his apron—which was just a piece of vibrant maroon fabric pinned to his belt—and stood behind the counter, tapping the side of each basket. Mark had been coming to the shop for years and so he had gotten used to the man's behavior, though with Crisanto, there were still many surprises ahead.

He let out a hum and disappeared in a crouch. "These are not as fresh as the others, but they are still within a few days of harvest. We have had some problems with a local troublemaker, and as a result, some fruits are unable to be grown as fast."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Problems how?"

"Just a young man who must be in cahoots with a Ruffian," Crisanto rumbled with a sigh. "Destroys most of my wife's garden soil and has been for weeks now." He let out a tut and set the basket on the counter. "Are these all that you visited for?"

"Uh, no."

"Well, tell me what you need and I will try and find it." He glanced around his messy shop; fabric hung from some of the stronger vines and a few sets of furniture were piled in a tangle in the corner. It seemed that the produce section of the shop was the only place that seemed to be organized. "That is, if I have it."

The little tinker nodded. "Juice. Do you have some apple juice? And soda?"

Crisanto gave a little flourish and appeared behind a different counter. Mark heard the suction of small, refrigerator doors opening. "How much?"

"One thing of apple juice, and a few bottles of soda? Orange, please."

"We seem to be out of orange. Will grape work?"

"Yeah." Mark, who knew the prices of Crisanto's shop like the back of his hand, reached into Eddie's coin pouch, and handed the required amount to the flamboyant shop owner. He clasped the coins in his hands and dropped them into a little chest on the counter, grabbing another basket to place the items in.

As he was working, he gave Mark an upwards glance. "These are not your usual orders," he muttered. "A party, I suppose?"

Mark grinned. "Yes," he said. "Rhea—you remember her?—yeah Rhea's coming back to the island finally." There was a little bounce to his impatient rocking. "Eddie is having a little welcome back party for her."

One of Crisanto's rare, genuine—but small—smiles spread across his face. "I see," he said, reaching down under a nearby counter. He grabbed a crinkly bag and placed it in a little crook between the juice and the soda. "I made these last night. Tell her this old man said hi."

"Will do." Mark took the handles of the two baskets in both his hands and gave an awkward wave on his way out the door. Crisanto waved him off, and when Mark heard the gentle click of the closing door, he relaxed, his shoulders going limp. That guy was almost too kind for his own good, but Mark remembered a time when he walked in on him and a customer arguing, and _boy_ did Crisanto know how to argue!

He stopped by his house and put all of food and drinks into the fridge, having to play a bit of Tetris to get it all in. Like usual, his father was not home—most likely at the shop _again_—so he stole a few wafers from the pantry, made a sandwich for lunch, and walked back to Eddie's garden. Lizard was getting it all spruced up, livening the flowers with fertilizer and brushing out his piñatas' fur, and did not notice Mark walking into the area.

"Did you get everything needed?" Sparcticus asked, having placed himself at a table with one leg crossed and head resting against one propped up hand.

Mark gave him a look. "Of course I did!" he snapped, pointing a finger accusingly at him. "What, don't trust me?"

Eddie stood up with a laugh, having been almost scared out of his wits when he heard Mark's rather obnoxious voice. "Take a deep breath!" he said, swinging his arm around. In his hand was his watering can and water splashed out, hitting Mark a few times in both eyes. "No need to get riled up! Besides, my piñatas promised me no fights for the next few days—you three can do the same! Now, my garden seems to be all ready. I've got my card table all set out, and a few chairs, and some lights on the trees. Let's go watch the piñata races while we wait!"

Always one to decide things, Eddie led the way. He found the four of them seats at the top of the bleachers—away from some of the fans gathering around the track—and pointed out a few of the people he knew. There was a British gardener (of which Mark had run into many times trying to get Rhea's piñata to the doctor's) and the mail lady, and—oh, there was Bart.

"Everyone's going to be smoked," Mark said absentmindedly. "That Candary is a god damn monster."

"I see a Chewnicorn out there," Sahari pointed out, sticking her hand out so excitedly that she smacked Mark in the face. "Those things are fast!"

Right then, the races began. It was more of a tournament type race, not held as often, but it took longer, and eventually three piñata were pinned together to see who could get to the finish line the fastest. Mark had lost interest within moments of the first race starting and rested his head in his hand, his other drooped across his thigh, as he stared off into the blue sky.

It was such a nice day out, he noticed. Birds were preening their feathers in the trees, Whirlms were being their usual annoyance by flipping through the soil faster than he could tinker a berry. At one point he began to doze.

He let out a gasp when Eddie nudged him in the shoulder. "Mark," he said in a sing-song voice, dragging it out for what felt like forever. "Mark, the Chewnicorn won. It's time to leave!"

Mark, rather disoriented and when he went to stand up, he caught his foot under a bleacher seat. He went tumbling down and landed face first in the dirt despite trying to catch himself. Sahari let out a cry and covered her eyes while Eddie and Sparcticus stared. Strong hands that he knew could not belong to any of his friends pulled him up and set him against the bottom step of the seats. His entire head was going lightheaded and he could hardly stand to open his eyes. Someone was brushing dirt off his face.

"I swear to the high heavens you are more clumsy than a child! Marcus, you have to be more careful for God's sake!"

"B-Bart, l-let me l-look at him, please."

He squirmed when Patch reached over and opened his eyes with his fingers. Luckily he had been there at the time! Mark could feel little drops of blood drip down his face from where he repeatedly hit it on the seats. Patch took his pack and rubbed it off with a sanitized wipe, and then applied a band-aid, much to Mark's protest.

Mark then covered his face, too embarrassed by his fall to look at people with a straight face. His father hauled him to his feet and got him to an actual seat where he stood and held him up.

"Heh, looks like you shattered parts of your mask, boy."

His heart felt like it was injected with a cold fluid. He pulled it off his face in broad daylight and stared at the scratches that littered the surface, the chips in the sides. Refusing help from anyone, Mark stood up and put it back on, feeling like an utter fool.

"Mark, p-please sit down," Patch insisted, grabbing him by the shoulder. Too hurt and fatigued to argue, Mark complied. "You h-hit yourself pretty hard. Bart…"

They turned to each other to talk. Mark could not stand feeling like an idiot and felt like the gods were on his side when his Alert System finally went off. He clumsily pulled it out of his breast pocket and tapped the screen to turn it on, a grin spreading across his face as he read it. At the same time, Eddie, Sahari, and Sparcticus' Systems went off.  
_  
Hey, punks! Meet me at the docks in a few minutes, okay? ~Rhea_

Mark swore his heart would burst right there and then. He tried to get up and then stumbled, Bart catching him before he could fully fall on his face again.

"Rhea's back," he breathed.

Bart rolled his eyes and pulled Mark's arm around his shoulders. "Well, slow down! You won't be sleeping tonight so you can take all the time you need to do something." Mark looked at him, horrified.

"P-precautions," Patch said with a sheepish grin and a shrug. "Y-you d-did hit your head p-pretty hard! G-give it a day o-or so…"

Before long, Eddie was bouncing around impatiently. "Come on! Come on she'll be here any moment!"

He stormed on ahead, but the rest stayed behind. Patch had a few piñata to attend to so he went off, but Bart helped Mark get his feet back and let him go when he could stand without falling over within .2 seconds. The young tinker stumbled his way ahead to meet up with the rest of his friends. Sahari gave him a little wave and a friendly smile, urging him to catch up to the point where he at least could talk to them.

"We'll all greet her together, okay? I think Leafos and Seedos might be coming along, too! There they are!"

The siblings gave curt little waves to the group. "Hello!" they called.

Bart was the only one who did not call out a greeting.

It was early evening, entering dusk, when they got to the docks. Someone was unloading a few suitcases from the boat and began to roll them toward the land, waving to the people still on board, as it was a side stop that had been quite unexpected. A smile played at Mark's lips—she was still the same height as ever, with the same curly hair, same light skin, and same amber eyes.

She could hardly get a wave out before Mark crushed her in a hug.

* * *

_**Shinzu**_: My goal is to one day be able to write Bart. I just- his dialogue is so weird and somewhat sophisticated? And I just -roars in frustration-


	4. Kale, I Think?

He clung to her for as long as he could, but eventually he let go and took a step back, his hands resting on her shoulders. The old, purple mask she used to wear was chipped and cracked in places, most likely having been stowed away in an old closet or moved around from place to place too often for its liking. But it still emoted rather well, imitating the furrowed eyebrows Rhea had from trying not to laugh too hard. She reached up and brushed a lock of curly brown hair out from in front of her face; it was halfway down her back now, almost to her waist, when before he remembered it to be short and choppy.

"I'm so glad you're back," Mark said, forgetting that there were other people around. He did not hear Eddie impatiently clear his throat. "You left so suddenly…"

"I'm so sorry about that," Rhea announced, holding her hands up and shaking them innocently. Her voice was thick with an accent that Mark found hard to place. "I vhant to tell you know, but it's a complicated story that I still need to try and organize!"

Eddie chuckled and shoved past Mark to engulf the girl in an enormous hug. "Welcome back, Rhea!" he exclaimed, holding her so tightly that she began to choke. "The whole village has missed you! We even took care of your garden for you."

"_Excuse you_. Me and Leafos and Seedos took care of her garden!" Mark gave a huff and crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently. "You have no right to take credit for something you did not help in!"

A fight was most obviously about to break out. Eddie tore away from Rhea and pointed at Mark with narrowed eyes. Rhea cleared her throat and got their attention, forcing a smile. "Come on now, boys," she began. "We're all adults here, aren't we?"

"He has a point!" Bart said, breaking up their conversation. "Now I'm sure that Rhea is exhausted, and I have some things for Marcus to do, so how about we all just go home and sleep and you can talk to her tomorrow?"

All of the others let out groans, but Rhea nodded thankfully. "I'll see you guys in the morning, ja? Meet me at the Inn! I'll be up nice and early." She clapped her hands together with a grin on her face.

Eddie nodded. "That sounds fabulous!" he said, taking her hands. Her face instantly turned to one of disgust and she wrenched them away. Almost immediately the tension in the air rose and everyone simply stared at one another until eventually Eddie turned away with a sheepish grin. "I'll be headed off now!"

Everyone was starting to disperse. Sahari and Sparcticus took an extra few moments to say good bye to Rhea before walking to the village to find a room in Arfur's Inn. As much as he wanted to, Mark knew that he would have to leave, and knew he was going to be exhausted the next day because Patch was refusing him sleep.

"Just, uh-uh, h-have him practice something…" Patch told them when they stopped by his office on their way home. "C-clean up your shop a bit? Just k-keep him busy. He can t-take a nap tomorrow after he v-visits me."

Bart simply chuckled in a way that Mark was not used to. When they left the office and started the trek back to their home, the older hooked his finger through Mark's collar, causing him to jerk back and let out a choke.

"You can read a book when you get home. Or perhaps clean the kitchen? Something more productive than whatever you usually do, eh?"

"That's all I ever do." Mark rolled his eyes, trying not to let his contempt get the better of him. "I'll just sit outside or wander around or something. No big deal."

"No." Bart let out a sigh and shook his head. "Just don't do anything stupid, boy, you have scratches all over your face and chips in your mask and I bet your arm hurts now, doesn't it?"

He pushed on ahead and Mark stood there, sneering at him. He was eighteen—he should have been able to do what he wanted! But his father was letting him stay at home, instead of kicking him out like most parents were known to do. All he could do now we let out a sigh and comply, following Bart down a path and up a tiny little slope to their house. He wondered if Bart even had anything for him to do, or if that was just an excuse to get him to come home.

With a huff Mark collapsed on the couch and crossed one leg over the other, pulling off his mask. He had no idea where Bart had wandered off through, but he did not care. Soon he would be asleep, and he fell asleep fast and was a heavy sleeper, which often worked to Mark's advantage. Silence was falling fast and when he started to get jittery he stood up and walked to his bathroom, poking at all the scratches he saw on his face. Bart was right, too—his arm was hurting and bruises were appearing all over his body. He just had to fall down the bleachers at the race, eh?

The village still seemed to be bustling with life as he could see through the window, and he did not want to be stuck inside for much longer. It was cool, breezy, and without a piñata to talk to or keep him company, he wanted to go out and socialize.

He tapped his fingers against the counter as he pushed down on it to get a better view out the window. "Maybe I can…" Sucking on his bottom lip, he dropped back down to his floor and padded through the door, picking up his mask from the couch. He pulled the string around his head, grabbed his satchel, and padded down the hall, noting that Bart's door was shut. Good. He opened the front door next, stumbling backwards. A red blur shot by so fast he could not tell if it was those funny light burns or…something else?

Mark scratched his head and raised an eyebrow. "Hello?" He shook his head back and forth, finally giving a shrug and taking a step on the path to the village. It had to have been a light burn, as there were lights right outside the door.

The air was cool and breezy, his favorite kind of weather, and a few Mousemallows broke away from their group to accompany him on his way to the village. It reminded him of how his Sherbat followed him everywhere; maybe he would get a new Pinata sometime soon. Something cool—well, cooler than a Hogurt. Something that did not take evolution to get.

He stumbled a bit, catching the strap of his satchel with a confused look on his face. No one was around for him to have bumped into, as there seemed to be an event going on at the Inn now that caused few people to be wandering around at this time of night. But whatever the case, Mark padded down the street, looking through the different late-night shop windows. In the reflection of one of the windows, he saw a shady character, as tall as Eddie, with deep reds and blacks-

When he turned around, no one was there.

"I'm going insane. Maybe I hit my head way too hard." Mark sighed. "Is anyone there? Hello?"

Nothing but the bushes rustled. He shook his head, clenched the strap of his satchel, and carried on, humming a light tune to himself.

Right as Mark turned the corner, a large stick smacked into the side of his head. He crumpled to the floor.

"God damn it, boy! Marcus? God damn it, can you hear me?"

"Oh my God who did this? Will he be okay?"

"H-he's been like this for h-hours now. Looks like a stick was smacked against the side of his head—"

"Are you trying to tell me that _Dastardos _bludgeoned my child?" Never before had Patch heard the tinker so frustrated and angry, not even when Mark was young and blowing things up in his lessons or when a gardener called him to their garden and did not have that specific item. His stature was tense, eyebrows furrowed.

Patch carefully applied new bandages to the bleeding wound against Mark's head, right above the ear. In a small bag next to the table was the shattered, red mask that Mark loved to dearly. And, sitting in the corner, was Rhea. She was tapping her fingers together nervously, awaiting the moment that Mark finally opened his eyes. When she got too fretful, she pulled off her bandanna, twisting it in all sorts of different ways until she was sure it would break.

"W-well, I-I don't think it was Dastardos," Patch began, sliding across the room on his rolling stool. "D-Dastardos doesn't often at-tack people, let alone c-come to the village at night. It's…s-something else."

Bart let out a huff and crossed his arms. "Then who the _bloody hell_ was it?"

Rhea swallowed, her eyebrows furrowing. Her mask was old, and having not fixed it up in years, had troubles emoting, but it was enough to get her point across. "I'm not sure," she began quietly, "but before I left, I was often terrorized by this one guy, Kale I think? Might have been a sour, he never really showed his face."

She was met with an uncomfortable silence that made her shift around in her seat. The men looked at each other for a split second, exchanging glances that Rhea had missed.

"I've never heard of him," Patch began slowly. "I d-don't even think that Dastardos would kn-know. But let's just make sure Mark's o-okay."

"He _will _ be okay, correct?"

Hesitantly, Patch nodded. "Just l-leave him here for a few days," he said. "N-nothing fatal. He n-needs lots of rest, especially after th-that fall at the race."

Rhea sighed, her shoulders drooping. She walked out of the office as Bart and Patch talked, crossing her arms over her chest as she reached the sunlight. She padded softly to her garden. There was no reason to stay at Patch's, as he and Bart seemed to be handling it, so the next best bet was to head off and take care of her garden. She had not been there yet since she arrived, and all of her piñata swarmed her as she took a step over the bordering line.

The pond in the center had been taken care of well enough that it had not eroded or evaporated on the hot, summer days. She stood up after playing with her piñata and waded through the water, coming up to the chest. The paper she had written had been replaced with a laminated card to keep it safe through the weather.

It creaked as she opened it, but she found everything that she once used. When she pulled out her shovel, she connected the two ends (broken apart, originally, to be easier to fit in other places) and then pulled out her watering can and packets of seeds. After that was her Alert System kept safely in a durable bag. The batteries had died year ago.

"I'll fix you later," she said, putting it in her pocket. Finally came her journal, which she and Leafos had filled together. Leafos was the one who wrote, but Rhea was a rather good artist, enough that she drew in many of the pictures based off her own piñata. She stared at it, flipping through the pages with an air of nostalgia, a smile crossing her face.

"Welcome back, Rhea."

She jumped, but it was only Seedos. "Hallo!" she said. "I see you guys kept this place all nice."

"Well, yeah, we couldn't let it get all run down…again." Seedos frowned. "We had to fight off quite a few Ruffians!" He looked rather proud of himself at that moment, a grin spreading across his mask.

Rhea grabbed his shoulders. "Thank you," she said. "Pester and his minions are annoying little shits I wish I could get rid of."

Seedos' grin was at full capacity. He gave a nod and turned to walk away. "I have Shellybeans to take care of," he said. "But, wait! Here, this is for you." He pulled out a little, drawstring bag and handed it to her. "There are some really neat seeds in there, but they require constant attention, so only plant them if you're ready! Don't get distracted by Mark or Eddie!"

She was checking them out as Seedos walked away and as Eddie entered the garden. There was one that she knew instantly—a gem tree seed—and a bird of paradise seed, it looked like, and a few others that she had difficulties pinpointing. She had placed the seeds in the chest along with the Journal, locking it for safe keeping.

"Yo, Rhea! How are you?"

"Eugh, guten morgen, Eddie."

"What."

"Good morning, Eddie," Rhea said with a roll of her eyes. She waded across the pond again and knelt down, gathering up a handful of weeds that were beginning to poke their way through the surface. "What do you need?"

He knelt down beside her, twiddling his thumbs. "I just wanted to say hi," he said with a pout. "I also wanted to know what's up with Mark. He hasn't been a bother all morning! Fighting with him is what I look forward to most."

Rhea yanked the weeds out so hard that a huge clump of dirt came with it. She stood up, dropping the clump, and looked away. "Someone jumped him last night," she said, "with a stick? Like Dastardos, ja? But it wasn't Dastardos." Eddie's eyebrows furrowed in concern and Rhea could see the gears turning in his head.

"I'm gong to go visit him real quick, then," Eddie said, standing up again and brushing dirt off of his knees. "I'll be right back!"

"Whatever." She was not going to stop Eddie; she, quite frankly, gave zero fucks as to what that guy did.

Rhea went to grab the weeds again, but her main Syrupent got in the way. He curled up her arm and bumped heads with her, hissing with content. "You're a cute little Syrupent, aren't you? I missed you." As she was scratching its head, she heard someone take a step into her garden. Thinking it was Seedos or Eddie, or maybe even Leafos this time?, she turned and smiled, but her smile instantly disappeared, her eyes growing wide.

She was unable to get a good view of the man before she was clocked on the head and crumpled.

* * *

Shinzu: Okay sorry short chapter. Next one will be better.


End file.
